


The One Etched on Me

by GayAsAnArrow



Series: Soulmarks Series [1]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Magical Tattoos, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 08:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayAsAnArrow/pseuds/GayAsAnArrow
Summary: The blooming of a soulmark-- the shape of your lover's first touch on you-- should be a joyous occasion. Not everyone has one, after all. But the vast tattoo of the sky sweeping across Aerith's body is anything but joyous.Part One of the Soulmarks series.





	The One Etched on Me

“I’m so sorry,” Elmyra whispered, her hand cupping her adopted daughter’s cheek, over where the new soulmark marred her previously clear flesh. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”

Aerith stood with every ounce of bravery she’d earned in her sixteen years of life. She blinked back tears as Elmyra inspected the new mark covering half her body. It was a cruel joke for someone living in the slums. Not just a visible soulmark, but one that looked like the sky. 

Pale white clouds almost the color of her skin, but behind them blue. Delicate, almost like a watercolor painting, but impossible to remove. Difficult to cover, with the depth of color. And expansive. It stretched down both her arms, over her chest, down her stomach, even marking the tops of her thighs. The very top of the mark was emblazoned on her left cheek and ear. When she’d parted her hair with her fingers, she’d seen blue peeking out from below her hairline.

“Why?” Aerith asked, her voice wounded even though she was trying to be brave. “If they love me, why would it be like this?”

“It must be an accident,” Elmyra whispered. “That’s all I can think. It must be an accident, darling. I’m sure they wouldn’t on purpose. Come with me. I’ll add sleeves to your dress.”

But no sleeves would cover the soft clouds and blue sky that covered her palms, and though she often wore gloves it was hard to tend to her flowers without her hands free. Aerith changed the style of her bangs to fall more heavily over her left cheek. But even so, anyone who looked too closely would know. Know that she was soulbonded, with a mockery of the sky she’d never seen tattooed on her flesh.

* * *

Zack was on the floor. Not in the ‘I fell out of the sky’ way. He was curled on the floor of her church, upright but only barely. Slumped and small in his despair. Her bright, wonderful Zack. The man who smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. Who gave everything he had in everything he did. Who accepted ‘build me a wagon’ as a date, and kept coming back to repair it.

A man so full of warmth she’d thought for certain she’d never feel cold again.  
  
Her palms itched. And she felt it, all in a rush. How it would happen. What it would be. Surely we’ve touched before, she thought. But shoving on a pauldron wouldn’t have counted, she supposed. And he’d kept such a careful distance. As if he was embarrassed to touch her.

When she knelt behind him, her thighs touched his back first. She’d never seen under his clothes. But she knew, as she leaned forward. As she wrapped herself around him, feeling his stifled sobs jostle her. She knew, as she wrapped her arms around him, the insides of her arms stained blue all those years and now matching the indelible mark he must have had crossing his chest. She rested her cheek against his hair. Squeezed him as she felt his sobs hitch and shudder under the weight of this new information. But she only held him tighter. She wasn’t hugging him to distract him. Loss was loss. Joy didn’t undo it.

* * *

“Woah, Zack!” One of the other troopers in the shower yelled. Day two of training, first time in the joined showers, and Zack was already grinning, laughing, as he knew an audience was gathering to ogle him. “What the fuck man! No way is that a soulmark!”  
  
“What, this old thing?” Zack asked, turning around, beaming, naked, proud as any bluejay of his plumage. The twisting vines wrapped around his shoulders. Crossed over his chest. On his back they were a jungle. Wild and beautiful. He only knew because he’d spent hours craning to get a glimpse in the mirror that morning. He’d noticed the ones around his chest, obviously. Squeezing around him like the mirror of a hug. “Fancy, right?”  
  
“What the fuck, man?” One of them laughed. “Who the hell’s gunna lie on you like that?”

“You player!” Joked another.  
  
“Hey, if any of you had soulmarks on your forearms, I’d offer you a piggyback ride right now so we could test it out for a match,” Zack laughed. “But I’m pretty sure I’m safe.”  
  
“Hey, whaddaya mean ‘safe?’ You’d be lucky!” Yelled one of the guys, and it dissolved into laughter after. And, to Angeal’s chagrin when he stepped inside to see what the commotion was, it had indeed lead to some piggyback rides.

* * *

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Zack thought, curled on the floor of Aerith’s church, choking back sounds of agony. He’d wanted to come here, to be comforted by her smile, by her flowers, by her laugh. But he couldn’t hold it together. He could still feel his bones rattling from the killing blow. Could still feel the weight of the sword he’d covoted, but never like this. Not like this…  
  
He couldn’t. He couldn’t smile. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even focus on her soft voice, talking about the sky and her flowers… So he crumbled. He was certain she would forgive him. She’d forgive him for this. He could never tell her what he’d done. Couldn’t stomach anyone knowing, least of all _ her _. But she’d forgive him for falling just one more time.

He couldn’t shake the way Sephiroth had gone silent over the phone. He couldn’t shake the way Angeal had—  
  
Angeal…  
  
He only belatedly realized she’d stopped talking. He couldn’t make himself perk up. Didn’t know if she’d asked something. He stayed slumped over himself, fighting not to scream as tears rolled down his cheeks. She’d forgive him this weakness. Even if he couldn’t let anyone else see it. Angeal wouldn’t have…  
  
She approached with soft footsteps. He could just barely hear her over the warping sound in his ears. His stifled sobs half-deafening him. The heat of her hug wrapped around him between one breath and the next, as he tried to fight back the tears. To regain himself.  
  
It wasn’t until she was settled in position, her cheek nestled in his hair, her hands pressing down over his chest, her warm body pressed against his back, solid and real and—  
  
And vines wove around his body where she was. Deep and green and beautiful. Kissed his neck and his shoulders. Twined around his chest where her arms were. He breathed in deep, trying to fight past sorrow, to tell her he’d known, or he’d hoped, or...  
  
She squeezed him tighter. Shook her head softly against his scalp. And he let himself dissolve under her love. Under her affection. Under the knowledge, for certain. That her blue palms with their pale clouds were him. That under her long sleeves would be the mirror of this touch. That their love would always be marked by this moment. By the loss of Angeal.

  
But she was there, and warm, and loved him. And he loved her too. With everything he was.  
  
It was why he’d never touched her. Because he’d hoped it was her, and he’d known; with the mark on his back, his soulmate had to be the one to touch him first.


End file.
